


You Light Me Up

by Turquoster (Azurspur)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, I Don't Even Know, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:21:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26304073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azurspur/pseuds/Turquoster
Summary: Prompt:A: What is the one thing I told you not to do?B: Burn the house down.A: And what did you do?B: Made you dinner.A: ...B: ...A: ...B: ...and burnt the house down.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Kudos: 79





	You Light Me Up

As far as Fridays go, Bilbo's in an unusually good mood.

It's not that he harbors a particular dislike for the day itself. Friday does, after all, signify the end of another grueling week at work, and the start of a much awaited weekend's respite, which he appreciates just as much as the next person. So no, Bilbo has absolutely nothing against Fridays, save for the minor fact that Friday's are also regarded, among the general youth populace, as party nights, and Bilbo happens to teach English literature at the local high school.

Suffice to say, he doesn't get much teaching done on Fridays.

But no matter, Bilbo thinks, turning his blinker on as he rounds the block. Spacey teenagers will not ruin this day for him. Because on this particular Friday, he has a treat waiting for him back at his apartment, and he is determined to enjoy all six feet of it.

Thoughts of strong arms and hot bubble baths flit through his mind, and he finds himself humming as he pulls onto his street. Only to come to a sudden halt at the sight before him.

There's a fire engine parked on the curb.

The occupants of his building are gathered in a group well out of the way of the working firemen, talking amongst themselves, and generally looking royally pissed at the whole situation.

Last but certainly not the least, Bilbo registers the fact that the plume of smoke steadily rising up over the neighborhood is being belched out of _his apartment window_.

He steps out of his car in a daze, squinting up at his window.

To his chagrin, the smoke does not spontaneously evaporate into thin air.

_Well, there's my evening plans out for the count._ And after all the trouble Thorin went through to free his schedule for today, too.

Bilbo's eyes widen in horror.

_Thorin!_

Now working himself up into a proper panic, Bilbo rushes to the mob of people, desperately searching for a head of dark hair. He shouldn't be hard to find, the bloody lug is over six feet tall, and not particularly lanky either, so why is it that Bilbo can't spot him, because of course he's here, he _has_ to be here, he's not even going to _think_ about Thorin still being inside the building, because he's _not-_

"Bilbo!" comes a familiar voice, and Bilbo turns around to see Thorin striding over to him, looking hale and hearty, if slightly sooty, and reeking of a chimney besides. Bilbo has his arms wrapped tight around Thorin before he can get another word in. Muscular arms wrap around him without hesitation, coming up to cup the base of his skull protectively.

It's a long moment before Bilbo pulls away, and then only to check him over for injuries.

Large hands wrap around his wrists, stopping his examination. "I'm fine, ghivashel," Thorin murmurs, ducking to press a kiss to his fingers. It settles something inside his heart, and Bilbo lets out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Truly."

"You better be," he mutters, looking into forget-me-not eyes.

"I am," Thorin affirms. Then his face does something peculiar, before sliding into a telling blankness. " _I_ am fine," he repeats, and that's when Bilbo finally sees what he's wearing. Thorin shifts uneasily. "Your kitchen, however..." He trails off, wincing slightly, and starts over. "Kurdel, you must understand, I only meant to _-_ "

Suddenly, there's an entirely different set of emotions coursing through Bilbo.

Thorin silences himself, taking a wary step back from the glare leveled his way. "Bilbo, I...I can explain."

"Please do," Bilbo says sharply, although the partially charred apron hanging off his torso is damning enough. He watches as Thorin flails for something to say, cutting himself of at several ill-thought sentence starters, and waits for the moment Thorin gives up, hanging his head in defeat.

Bilbo takes a calming breath. It doesn't quite work.

"Thorin," he starts, glancing at the still smoking window and back to the evidence before him. "What is the _one_ thing I told you not to do?"

Thorin flinches, then mutters quietly, "Burn the house down."

"Exactly." Bilbo breathes in, and out again. "Now tell me, what is it that you did?"

"Made you dinner," comes the grumbled response. Bilbo arches an eyebrow and waits. Thorin releases a put upon sigh. "And burnt the house down."

Burnt the house down, indeed.

Bilbo takes in the way the smoke has all but obscured a good portion of the sky, though the quantity of it billowing from the window has since decreased significantly. The firemen are exiting the building now, announcing to the disgruntled crowd that the fire has been dealt with. Thorin is staring stonily at the pavement beneath their feet, lips pressed into a thin line. The ruined apron is fluttering innocently in the breeze.

_Oh, for crying out loud-_

He lets out an exasperated groan.

Thorin's eyes flicker up to him, self-recrimination clear in his gaze, and Bilbo gives up any pretense of anger. He reaches up to cup a bearded cheek, all the while bemoaning the fact that he is so pathetically gone for this man.

"What were you trying to make?"

Thorin looks at him for a moment, pursing his lips. "Seedcake."

Bilbo blinks at him, taken aback. "You were trying to bake?" His very favorite dessert, at that. 

Thorin simply grunts his assent. Something warm blooms in his chest. For a moment, Bilbo is entirely overwhelmed by fondness for the ridiculous oaf. His lips stretch into a grin all of their own accord, and blue eyes narrow at him suspiciously.

Bilbo ignores them, fingers busy tucking away stray strands of mildly incinerated hair behind Thorin's ear. "Whatever went wrong, love?"

Thorin seems to relax a midge. "I don't know. One minute it was working alright, and the next, the oven just...exploded."

"Exploded."

"Yes." Thorin hesitates, then places his hands on Bilbo's waist, the tension bleeding out of his frame when Bilbo doesn't pull away. The look of utter despondency on his face remains, though. "I...I apologize. I will not endeavor to cook in your kitchen without supervision again. You have my word."

And really, someone so far into their middle age should not be allowed to bear such a resemblance to a kicked puppy. It is all Bilbo can do to lean in and try to kiss the crestfallen look off his boyfriend's face.

Thorin blinks down at him when he draws back.

Bilbo smiles. "Oh love, there's no need for all that," he says, feeling lighthearted with affection. He loops his arms around Thorin's neck. "In fact, we can head on over to your kitchen tomorrow, and I can show you how the oven works." He thinks for a second. "And the stove, and the microwave, too, for that matter." Bilbo squints at him. "Do we need to go over the proper handling of the coffee machine as well?"

Thorin shoots him a weak glare. "I know how the coffee machine works."

Bilbo pats him on the shoulder. "Of course you do."

The edges of those severe lips finally twitch up into a smile.

"Now." Bilbo steps back, the keys to Thorin's apartment hanging from his fingers. He gestures all-encompassingly at the mess behind Thorin. "You are going to deal with the consequences of your actions. That includes cleaning up my kitchen, and dealing with that angry fireman over there." He jerks his chin at the man in question. "I, on the other hand, am going to enjoy my well-earned evening off in your Jacuzzi."

Thorin nods grimly, though his eyes are alight with good humor. "As you wish, ghivashel."

"Come home soon," Bilbo murmurs, reaching up for another quick kiss, and then he is making his way back to his car, still parked haphazardly in the middle of the road. As he drives off, he looks to the rear-view mirror and catches sight of Thorin squaring his shoulders rather dramatically, before striding off to perform damage control.

If Thorin makes quick work of fixing the whole debacle, perhaps Bilbo can salvage his Friday evening yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Khuzdul:  
> Ghivashel - treasure of all treasures  
> Kurdel - heart of all hearts


End file.
